


Satan in Literature

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Soulless Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester prided himself in being nothing but the best, and that meant even in his studies. Gaining that sterling A+ should be nothing but easy, but there is one professor who refuses to be swayed by Sam's charm, manipulation, and wit. That's okay, he has a plan on how to win this one over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satan in Literature

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

Emerald eyes graced by Caribbean sea blue stared listlessly at the book in his hand, finding the print to be terribly small all of a sudden. Eyes skimmed through the Courier font before brows furrowed, as if suddenly insulted but unwilling to turn his eyes upward. Sam Winchester felt as if he was being snubbed by life as he sat in the classroom with twenty or so other grad students. Four weeks before the course is over and for months he’s been trying to catch his professor’s eye to no avail. 

Sam Winchester prided himself over his straight A’s, flawless GPA, and the fact that every professor that he has ever had are absolutely head over heels for him. Some only need persuasion from sheer intelligence alone, others from charisma, and than there are those who need that little physical push in the right direction. It was about recommendation letters that will push him not only in a high standing position in one of the top firms in Manhattan, the university itself, but also in his career field. Law is competitive and he wanted to make sure he came into the game above the fresh-out-of-college yuppies. 

This would be his last semester and while there were some remotely important classes being finished up, to keep himself occupied he took a few electives. An upper division English class, Satan in Literature, that looked nothing short from easy. However, he received a ‘B’ on his first paper and an ‘A-’ on his first test. Those were two scores that were not tolerable and what was worse, this professor seemed incapable of having favorites. If intelligence was being taken lightly, charisma hardly recognized, than what of that physical push? 

Sam prided in how he had the power to make others reevaluate themselves. It was easy to play the perfect boyfriend, take them on creative dates, tell them they’re pretty, place them on a pedestal....and kick the pedestal from underneath them. A kicked puppy look and playing ‘I’m really the victim’ left them simpering and trailing after him as if he was a precious stone in this world. It was curious how people are willing to give and do anything for you when riddled with guilt. Guilt is stronger than love, if you know what buttons and levers to push and pull. Than there was the power to just reevaluate sexuality, it takes time but it’s about sympathizing and being available, and oh what an identity crisis it is. How fun it is to let them figure themselves out when you leave them trying to pick up the pieces. Whoops! 

It was time to do the same, and Sam did his best in trying to catch his professor’s eye. Toying with his pen, letting his fingers glide across the shaft before letting his thumb toy with the end. Even went as far as idly letting it press against his lips before subtly letting it slip past pink lips, pinning it between his mouth. That didn’t catch the blue-eyed gaze of his professor who was going over Friedrich Nietzsche’s Anti-Christ.

Sam cared for his appearance because first impressions mean everything, but he cared a bit too much about how he should look before entering the class. He was attentive, well-dressed, well-groomed but it was only capturing the attention of his classmates. Sam was realizing each day how claustrophobic his classmates were making him as they hovered and boldly sat by him. The young Winchester had to resist the urge to wring their necks and jabbering mouths. They swooned and gushed; he looked absolutely disturbed.

The Professor was easy-going and taught where he would lecture, and you must write every word that leaves his mouth on the chance it will be on the next test. He preferred to be called ‘Nick’ but the classmates joked that their professor was actually Satan in the flesh. He would finish his last lecture and reveal himself to be the devil himself, and Sam knew Nick could hear the murmured whispers before class began. He’d watch those lips tilt into the slightest of smirks and just ooze in relaxation against his seat in front of the room. It was a compliment to the tall blond and Sam wondered if he could utilize that somehow. It was worth a shot. 

Sam raised his hand. Blue eyes turned to him, the blonde issuing a nod for him to go ahead. “I don’t feel as if Nietzsche was writing as some sort of...calling to or pointing out anything about Satan in the text,” Sam found himself speaking out, “In other texts we’ve been reading, authors either completely slander or poke fun at the devil in a show of good triumphing over evil...while the majority revel and put the devil on a pedestal.” 

“So than what would you see it as?” 

“A text completely against Christianity. Nietzsche is talking about Social Darwinism, disciplines that believe human behavior today can be traced down to the survival of the fittest. Thus, all human behavior can be explained by evolution -- meaning, all human behavior can be explained. Period.” He fiddled with his pencil because he realized midway through he had the full attention of this blond Lucifer. “So we can argue that humans are pure physical entities -- materials. That means there is no soul and in turn that completely topples the foundations of Christianity, if not other forms of religion. If that’s the case, than we as humans are but...appearances which in turn is Satanic.” 

Nick hummed in thought before giving a smile in approval, “Very good, Sam. Religious is Mankind’s greatest lie and yet greatest accomplishment. Sam brings up a good point to turn us to the topic of Religious Darwinism...” Sam felt his chest become flushed in pride as Lucifer continued on talking, hailing back to his argument and the spotlight was on him. Sam. Surely he was winning and soon he would have the professor wrapped around his finger.

Despite the impressed look and the devil’s agreement, Sam found himself exiting the class empty handed. Nick was busy speaking to another student, lounging in the chair like some lackadaisical king on his throne. Sam wondered what it would be like to be underneath the desk of the classroom where he taught, nuzzling into the inseam of his pants before pulling down the zipper unbeknownst to his next class. Kitten licking up hot flesh and feeling a hand grip at his scalp furiously until crescent-moon indents were imprinted into his skull. That made the Winchester inhale the air sharply in thought, making a beeline to his car. 

He needed to take a cold shower. 

\---------

Sam was becoming desperate if not annoyed at this lack of attention. Try as he must, he was still was stuck at square one. However, for once, he actually was called to stay after class after everyone’s papers were returned...except for his. That only spoke of an ill conversation and Sam wasn’t sure he was willing to hear ‘you lose, stop trying’ from his professor. 

“You know, Samuel, if you continue to blatantly show skin in class I may just think I’m in a fraternity house,” Nick stared down at the grade book laid before the table, black framed glasses perched on his nose. Sam blinked in shock at the statement before giving a sly smirk, moving closer to the desk until his knees bumped into it. 

“Should I be taking that as an insult or a compliment?” 

Nick rose his head, blue eyes regarding him in silence before shrugging his shoulders. Sam was unnerved by the lack of response but also inflated all at once. That meant Nick saw what he was doing the entire time. That meant that while the professor may not admit it, he acknowledged what was occurring. Sam was more than happy to count that as a point on the scoreboard. This completely got rid of his melancholy thoughts and now was more than happy to admit that he was going to have this sucker wrapped around his finger in no time. “Your essay on Dostoevsky’s “Ivan’s Nightmare” was well written. However, I wouldn’t get too inflated,” Nick popped his bubble of victory with his slow and smooth drawl, “You did not explain yourself about Satan being a psychological phenomenon. I got interested and than you jumped somewhere else.” 

The brunette frowned because this was the conversation he was expecting. Sam thought that...well...he wanted to jump back to the whole showing skin. With that he could just slowly tease him out, but instead Nick dodged to business, and if anything making him look stupid. 

“Uh...” he blanked at the question, feeling Nick’s expecting look at him and the bored sigh eventually pass from his lips. Whatever Nick was hoping for, that moment passed and his body looked ready to rise from his chair and usher him out. “The narrator feels as if Satan is a physical illness. He is suffering from a mental hallucination that manifests into this illness,” Sam whooshed out and that made the blond settle down, if only momentarily. 

“Continue on.” 

“However, while it is this...proud feat and almost pat on the back in the devil’s book, it’s also somewhat of an insult. They made him into a clinical term, as if it can be treatable. You can treat headaches. You can treat the devil, per se.” Nick looked interested, fingers carefully taking his glasses off his face and staring in curiosity at his words. “But one can’t forget that the influence on Ivan makes the devil real, whether he is real or not. By believing he is real, Ivan gives him life -- he becomes a disturbance on the psyche.” Sam gave a hopeful look, and a low hum in agreement and a nod made the Winchester swell up in pride.

Nick leaned back in his chair, the plastic arm of his glasses pressed against his mouth as he let Sam’s argument sink in. Sam found it distracting. “There is almost a hint of Jungian archetypes being used, especially with the claiming that he is a manifestation of his weakness and animalistic tendencies,” Nick responded in thought and Sam could only let his eyes drift to his professor with his t-shirt underneath his blazer. How it was twisted against him from his shifting when sitting down and held on tightly onto his torso now. Or how his jeans did that bunching up in the front, always that awkward bulge, but to Sam it only made him terribly, terribly, terribly curious and bold. 

“The Shadow. Repressed weaknesses and shortcomings. The thing is that Ivan believes that he’s being tricked, especially being tricked to believe that the Devil doesn’t exist. Talk about conflict,” he chuckled and Nick gave a wide smile that told him that he won. Intelligence was ultimately the breadwinner in this game.

“So than the purpose of the Devil...” Nick leaned forward on the desk and Sam felt like this was either the make it or break it question. 

“How I see it, is that whether Ivan is having a debate with himself or not, the purpose of the Devil is to push unto him these ideas of a communist and socialist utopian as a result of science. It’s this new dawn of rationality and he pushes the idea because he knows humans will strive for worldly perfection but also that by striving for it...it will crumble underneath them. So the Devil becomes an extreme, individualistic nihilist in the text,” Sam supplied and Nick nodded, grabbing his pen to write a swift ’98%’ on his essay. 

Pushing the paper towards Sam, he made a note in his grade book, slipping his glasses back on, “Very good, Sam. Now, have you started working on your final paper? I know a couple of students have come in for advice but also for help in finding resources. Are you taken care of?” 

Yes, Sam was taken care of. He was nearly finished with the paper and had more than enough resources. However...Nick was offering to help. It was time to feign a bit of helplessness to see where it would get him. Scratching the back of his neck, he gave a sheepish smile, “I need two more resources and I’m trying to argue in my paper that Mankind has helped achieve the Devil’s imortality as an icon by focusing on theology and positivism.”

“Very well. You know my office hours. I expect to see you tomorrow.” Sam nodded and walked off with his paper, absolutely smug and brimming with arrogance. 

\-----

It wasn’t too hard to coax Nick to help direct him in the right direction and section for resources on the twist of positivism he was looking for in regards to religion in the library. Now that he showed his professor he was more than intelligent, there was almost a sense of camaraderie in the light that the professor was more than willing to help his student write a well-developed paper in order see him pass with a flushed ‘A’. Plus, Nick seemed more pleased than usual to debate and lightly banter on a wide range of topics. But Sam was growing tired of playing around as they now moved through the library for the past thirty minutes, fingers itching to take a risk. He saw the way Nick gave lingering glances at him as they moved through the isles of books and how damn close they were when they moved about. 

This high school body flirting had to go. 

Sam was a suddenly a heavy weight against Nick, hand moving back to grip at a shelf for support, certain he’d topple all the books over and direct unneeded attention. “I think we’ve done enough tutoring for one day,” Sam murmured near his ear, shifting and sliding those hips against his, as if finding that perfect slot to slide them into. The professor turned his head to the right, side of his neck exposed to Sam’s mouth that did not waste time tasting the skin with his mouth. It would be quite safer if they chose to do this in his office, not in a library infested with the public. Yet Nick couldn’t find himself the energy to say ‘no’, far too curious to see what exactly one of his pupils had in mind. 

Although the more he thought about it, there are not many students who actually wander in the library for books. There is an even smaller population of students in need of religious text. It was a comforting thought, enough to coax hands to rest on each protruding hipbone. 

A deploring look that said he didn’t buy Sam’s words for a second fell on his face. “Is that what we were doing? Tutoring?” It was his way of saying that whatever game Sam wanted to play, he would be a skeptical player. If Sam wanted to horse around further, there needed to be an incentive. If Sam wanted to horse around in an extremely public area where he could be reprimanded, there needed to be an even larger incentive. Nick’s train of thought instantly died when the Winchester took a step back and peeled off his shirt. Hard lines and toned muscles were revealed, the cocky brat trailing a thumb over a side of the ‘v’ that became partially snuffed from his line of sight thanks to his jeans. 

Sam was toeing out of his shoes and socks, fingers picking at the button of the denim before popping it open. Dragging the zipper down, he shimmied out of his jeans to reveal that Sam thought very little about wearing underwear. Only two trains of thoughts were still functioning in his brain as he stared silently at the youth: (1) Now it was seemingly impossible for Sam to quickly put his clothes on if someone drew near; (2) He was half hard, cock partially raised and looking the faintest shades of a darker pink from being trapped in the confines of his jeans. This...was highly unethical in numerous of ways but Sam seemed to lack the shame and the nerve to feel insecure, let alone nervous. Although now that the professor was paying acute attention to every detail on Sam Winchester’s body, there honestly was no reason for Sam to feel insecure. 

“You’re staring, professor.” 

“You are naked, Sam.” 

His hand wrapped around himself, curling at the base before giving long, easy tugs. It was a cruel form of torture because Nick was a professional. He didn’t bend to the flirty batting of the eyelashes from his female students or the begging for sympathy to his own sex. He was fair and honest, perhaps in a blunt manner that ranged from sadistic at times...but this was an obvious abuse of his office hours. Perhaps if this was far from campus, faculty’s view, students’ view he’d be less hesitant about this all... More willing to push aside his hand and unforgivingly pump him until he was drawing attention from writhing moans and breathy pleas. 

Sam twisted his wrist when he reached the crown, giving a shuddering exhale and letting the devil be the witness to beads of precum dribbling out. He chanted through his head that he was a professional. This was school grounds. This was a student. This was not a planned nor expected event, taking it all completely by stunned surprise. But...it was so tempting...

“N-Nick,” Sam breathed out yearningly, pace increasing on his shaft, and Nick gritted his teeth. 

“Don’t. Tempt. Me.” 

“Isn’t that _your_ job?” Sly and vindictive were the words, causing blue eyes to stare at him with something close to carnal need and brief amusement. 

He was moving, cornering Sam against a bookshelf against a wall, hand moving to grip a shelf behind Sam. Fingers reached out to skim across his toned chest before sliding down casually to the hand still working him. He pushed the hand aside to look at the pink, attentive flesh between Sam’s legs before dragging his fingers across the skin. Sam twitched and mewled, hips quietly rocking in a silent show of what it wished to do. His fingers reached out to grab at Lucifer’s shirt, coaxing it up and over his professor’s head, dropping it on the floor. He explored ravenously with his finger tips, running across ribs and cool flesh as he continued to rock himself into Lucifer’s fingers that were blatantly teasing. He needed them wrapped around him firmly, jerking him off and getting high off the sensation and touching Nick as if he was something priceless. 

Fingers still taunted and toyed before they wrapped firmly around his length and began to give slow and easy tugs. Sam had to lay a hand on his professor’s shoulder to hold on because Nick’s hand was a cool presence on his hot flesh, and the difference in temperature was making his nerves jump and scurry around. Sam used his free hand to unbutton Nick’s jeans, tugging the zipper down and pushing it past his hips to see his professor’s length trapped in the confines of his boxer briefs. Skimming his fingers across the trapped bulge, he earned a feral sound and being turned so his backside was facing him. 

Hearing the rustle of clothing, Sam spread his legs a bit as he licked his lips, grinning to himself because oh hello, hello. He was the victor once again. Fingers grazed his smooth backside before slipping in-between them, the Winchester shifting a bit as if preparing for what Lucifer was going to find. Nick looked surprised, if not caught off guard when he found Sam to already be stretched and pulled open, dripping lube that spoke of too much being used. The professor could only idly wonder how uncomfortable it must have been to walk around in such a state, but the way Sam was wiggling his ass, his shifting in insistent attention, did he push the thoughts aside. Regardless, he pressed a finger in and Sam gave a shuddery sigh and gripped onto the shelves just a bit tighter. 

The devil added a second instantly and was met with light resistance and breathy little sounds when he curled his fingers deep inside of the Winchester. Third was added and Lucifer gave a dark growl, leaning across the firm expanse of Sam’s back, “Thinking of me when you did this?” Sam gave a silent nod and shifted his hips so he could feel those fingers pressing more into his insides. Of course he was thinking of his professor when he woke up this morning and worked himself on the bed...but vain, arrogant him thought of himself. It was tempting to look at the mirror that should his mirror image stretching him out, lube filling his insides to the point of overflowing and running down the soft flesh of his backside to his balls. Now thinking about it made Sam give a muffled groan, rocking into the fingers because he wanted to admire himself being fucked. Wanted to see how gorgeous he was when his bony hips rise towards the sky or the strong muscles in his thigh twitch when his prostate is hit. 

It was when Lucifer nudged the head of his length against his entrance was Sam brought back from his thoughts, gritting his teeth lightly because _now_ he felt the burn and friction. Pushing himself deeper, a low growl filled Nick’s chest at the pressure of muscles spasming around him before clutching on in distress at the intrusion. Snapping his hips so he could move forward, that drew the sweetest moans out of the Winchester before it was muffled with teeth biting into his fist. 

Lucifer didn’t wait for him to adjust, he was already sliding in and out of him with a steady rhythm, always seeming to go deeper and deeper with each thrust. Sam held on tightly to the bookshelf, focusing on keeping the noises coming out of his throat on a low volume. Teeth were scouring and biting into his back, marking him, earning a hushed mewl that coaxed the professor into a more brutal pace. Than he felt the blond brush against a bundle of nerves, making him jerk in surprise, almost knocking a book down. Rocking his hips back and tilting them so it could be fully hit upon, Lucifer was gone. 

“Lay down,” came a hissed out order and the hunter did as he was asked without pausing, feeling eyes burn holes into his back. 

Lucifer pushed him onto his side, Sam understanding what was needed, raising his outside leg. A hand wrapped around the side of his neck as another reached to grab at the suspended ankle for leverage. Sam wiggled and shifted, a low growl for order burning behind his neck before teeth bit into it. “Be still,” came the hissed out order as he could feel the “Devil’s” length press against his already slicked and stretched entrance. It was rather exhilarating and nerve-wracking at what was occurring, because Sam prided himself in taking control. Relinquishing it was a sign of weakness in not only character but as a man. Maybe he finally listened to too many of his father’s speeches that were testosterone-heavy and militarized, something his older brother while it was something for Sam to challenge. The Winchester highly doubted his father was speaking of having sex in a library with your male professor and the roles of positions. 

There was no regret of exposing his belly to Lucifer, the crown of his length being sucked into him. With a vindictive streak he let his muscles clench and shift against the intrusion, earning a beautiful, breathy sound somewhere near his ear. Teeth nibbled at an earlobe before grazing his neck, lips soothing each tiny inflammation of abused skin. Lucifer was kindly asking him to relax or else... Sam only clenched a bit more. Lucifer chose to shove himself in without further ado, slipping in until he was hilt deep. The hot burn of friction being caused made his body arch but the devil kept him close and rooted to him.

_Shuuuuunnnk!_

Someone was pushing a book in, Sam instantly tried to turn his head back to gauge how close that sound was and if he could get a somewhat view of where that person was. Teeth snapped against his neck, grazing the skin in a warning to keep in place. Nick refused to relent from his pace and if Sam held his breath, he could hear the wet slide of flesh moving through him. Turning his head again, teeth flashed and sunk into his neck as Nick adjusted his angle out of frustration at Sam’s movements, hitting Sam’s prostate. 

The younger male had to bite on his fist, teeth sinking into his knuckles to muffle the loud moan that filled in his mouth. He saw stars, body spasming around Nick’s length that continued to hit his prostate. Breath was hot on his marked neck before a hand pushed him onto his stomach, grunting in surprise as he found himself resting his cheek on the cool floor. An arm wrapped around his abdomen and hoisted his lower half up, feeling his backside presented blatantly and greedily to the blond. It made Sam’s ego scowl and wince, but all thoughts of changing the position left him when Lucifer slipped into him with sickly ease. Hands gripped his hips before picking up an erratic pace, sign enough to Sam that he was close. 

Sam could feel his balls tighten as his prostate was abusively battered by Lucifer, giving a drawn out keening noise that he cut short immediately by biting his tongue. Oh this was bad. He was going to attract attention and he ddi not wish to get reprimanded if anyone found his professor fucking him into the floor. A muffled sound left past his teeth when sunspots covered his vision, coming hard against his chest and the tiled floor underneath him. Nick kept on moving before pulling out of him. Long legs moved him toward Sam’s front, hand falling underneath his jaw and tilting it up until he felt Nick’s length against his lips. Opening his mouth, the professor slipped in, shallowly thrusting into his mouth. He could taste himself and lube that tasted faintly like plastic, and somehow that only made him groan around him. Eagerly he bobbed his head in time, earning Nick’s breath hitching when the flat of his tongue moved to dance across the sensitive tip. Hips jerked and trembled in release and Sam only smirked, drinking the hot liquid without a qualm. 

Kitten licking Lucifer’s length, earning a possessive growl as fingers carded through his hair, Sam could only feel smug. He won. The bastard wasn’t going to be able to sit straight whenever his name came across on a paper or on the roster sheet. He was going to get that ‘A’ and a beautiful recommendation paper. Feeling success driven, he went out of his way to do nice, little sentimental actions: kissing his thigh, leaning into the hand on his jaw, looking more debauched than he should, and so forth. It was only when fingers pushed his jaw away from a cream-hued thigh to turn his head upward did Sam blink back into focus. 

“Now, Sam, I’m afraid we are going to have to discuss this...” he spoke, thumb rubbing at his skin. Sam nodded. The devil himself wanted to settle ground rules, make sure he didn’t squeal, and maybe even schedule when these little excursions can happen. “If you don’t have enough references for your paper, I will mark you off. Okay? I’ll see in you class,” Nick finished before moving over to his clothes, beginning to get dressed with smooth movements. “APA format, Sam, not MLA.” 

Lucifer was gone and Sam remained on his knees at a complete loss of what just happened. It didn’t...work. A hot flush in embarrassment that this failed caught his cheeks before pushing himself onto his feet, glaring angrily at the book shelves. He would just have to try again. 

Semester was still young and Nick still had office hours.

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


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